


Under Capricorn

by catwalksalone



Category: Sports Night
Genre: Blow Job, First Time, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-29
Updated: 2006-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:46:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwalksalone/pseuds/catwalksalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan's made a New Year's Resolution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Capricorn

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday fic for [](http://suchthefangirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**suchthefangirl**](http://suchthefangirl.livejournal.com/)

Somehow they'd ended up on the roof. There was a perfectly warm apartment full of their friends just down a few flights but no, Danny had had to come to the roof to ring in the New Year and, being Dan, he had to drag Casey along with him.

Casey stood in front of a hot air vent, coat wrapped tightly around him. Dan was right by the railing, arms uplifted, face turned to the sky, dressed only in jeans and the sweater Esther had knitted him for Chrismukkah, the lights of New York providing a suitably sparkling backdrop. His breath curled up and away from him in frosty tendrils but he didn't seem to be feeling the cold.

"Danny, can we go in now? The New Year is " Casey checked his watch, " five minutes old. Haven't you communed with nature enough?"

Dan turned. Someone had strung Christmas lights along the clotheslines that spanned the roof top and their light cast a pleasant glow over him, picking out the whiteness of his skin and the deep shine in his eyes. Casey swallowed, blaming the stuttering of the warm air from the vent behind him on the sudden shiver that rippled through his skin. He drew his coat closer around him.

"Do you have any resolutions, Casey?"

"No. Can we go in? C'mon Danny, it's freezing." Casey stamped his feet and blew on his hands to show he wasn't kidding.

Dan leaned back arms outstretched, and gripped the railing. He arched his back, exposing his neck further. Casey's first thought was that he was glad Dan wasn't wearing a scarf. He filed it under a drawer marked 'Inappropriate' and recast the thought: he wished Dan had worn a scarf; he was going to catch his death. There, that was better.

"I have one," said Dan. It took Casey a moment to remember one of what.

"What?" he asked, more clipped than he'd meant to be. Dan raised his eyebrows.

"Not sure you're going to like it," he said.

What the hell did that mean? What the hell did that _mean_?

"Oh god, you're not going to take that job offer in London, are you?" Casey shoved his hands in his pockets to hide their trembling.

"No! Why would I do that? Guess again."

Casey had a brief moment to feel relieved before another, possibly worse, thought struck him.

"You're not going to propose to that idiot, er, Josie?"

"I am _not_!"

Casey was delighted to hear Dan being so vehement. So maybe Josie was history  and wouldn't that be a great start to the New Year? Dan was wearing the one smile Casey had never figured out. The one that seemed to say 'I know the best secret in the world, and I'm not sharing'. It made Casey want to open Dan up with a can opener and find out what the hell was going on in there. He had another try.

"Or "

"I think you're going to have trouble guessing," Dan interrupted.

"So tell me then. Do I have to mention the negative nature of the temperature again?"

"Casey, Casey, Casey." Dan shook his head and failed miserably at looking serious. He pushed himself off the railing and began to advance towards Casey, a wide smile spreading across his face. "My friend, don't you know that the best writers show, they don't tell."

The warm air around Casey was drying his throat. Or so Casey decided to believe. His attempted reply came out in a croak. By the time he'd cleared his throat and reformed his sentence, Dan was well into his personal space.

"Show me then," said Casey.

Dan rested a hand on Casey's shoulder, hooking his thumb into the collar of Casey's coat, letting it graze the skin of his neck. Casey shivered again. Because Dan's thumb was freezing he told himself  nothing at all untoward going on there. No, sir. It took him a few seconds to tame his brain. A few seconds in which Dan let his thumb drift up and down Casey's neck, staring deep into his eyes, a little smile playing at the edge of his lips.

Casey's body caught on quicker than his brain and his hands came out of his pockets to rest themselves on Dan's hips. Dan's smile grew and his hand slipped round to the back of Casey's neck, cold fingers spreading wide, pressing against the skin, drawing Casey closer still until mouth met mouth. Soft, thought Casey, a little confused, because cold meant hard, not soft, but then Dan's lips parted and his breath was warm and that made sense so Casey stopped thinking and let himself be kissed. Let Dan's gentle lips prepare the way with soft touches and delicate pressure. Opened to the tender insistence of Dan's tongue, subtle, teasing, insinuating. Felt his pulse pound harder as Dan discovered the places and ways that drew incoherent fragments of sound from Casey's throat. It was too much. It wasn't enough.

Casey's hand slid up Dan's back into his hair, crushing them together as he kissed Dan back with a wildness born of god knows how many years of repression. Dan had managed to push a hand in between them and Casey could feel his fingers working. At what he did not care until he felt Dan's hand steal under his coat, dipping down and then up, burrowing beneath layers of clothing until it rested against his bare skin. Casey jerked away.

"Jesus! That's cold!"

In the half-light he could see Dan's eyes glittering as he grinned.

"I know something that'll warm you up," he said, voice simultaneously teasing and deadly, deadly serious.

And Casey found himself staring into space as Dan slid to his knees. But, but, but! his brain was screaming. It's too cold. It's too exposed. It's too  Casey's body told his brain to shut the hell up and stay out of it. Feeling Dan's hands curving round his ass, Casey complied. He shut his eyes and rested his hands on Dan's shoulders, twisting his fingers into the wool as he felt Dan's hot breath diffusing through the thin wool of his pants. It wreathed around his cock, already hard and straining against its imprisonment, and curled through damp hairs, cooling them with each inward breath.

Casey felt Dan's hands dragging over his ass, the backs of his thighs, slow and steady, pulling them closer. And then Dan's mouth was on him, feeling him out through the rough fabric and Casey wasn't sure how he was supposed to keep standing. He closed his eyes, one sense down; it gave him less to concentrate on. Dan's hand slid round Casey's thigh, travelling up the in-seam, clever fingers finding the way home. Dan kept breathing his hot breath as buttons slipped from their holes. Casey gripped Dan tighter, starting to shake. He wanted this, oh how he wanted this. And then Dan's fingers crooked around him, freeing him, finding him the space he needed and Dan's tongue circled his cock head, breathing, always breathing. Hot and sweet and Casey thought that he might die. That his heart would seize with the pleasure of that beautiful mouth surrounding him, taking him in.

Casey felt Dan's name being torn out of him, along with all the emotion that he had wasted so much time on keeping secret. His cry of "Danny!" hung in the air, held there by the weight of volumes of words left unspoken. Dan's hands came up to grab Casey's, pulling them out and away, balancing them perfectly as his mouth became the epicentre of Casey's world, the tremors spreading through his body only the prelude. Mouth, breath, teeth, tongue. Casey's head whirled with colours and sensations, brighter and brighter until, almost without warning, a seismic shock ripped through him, forcing itself up and out, expelling itself as a wordless shout, as a libation offered directly to Casey's god.

Aftershocks subsiding, Casey came back to himself, realizing that Dan had released his hands, was tidying him away. Was looking after him. As usual. But what about Danny? Casey put his hand on Dan's head, tipping it back to look at him.

"Can I? Would you like me to?" his voice as ragged as his words.

Dan gave him a half-embarrassed, half-proud smile.

"No need," he said. Casey's brain was still shutting up. It took him a few seconds to catch on.

"Oh." And then he smiled too.

Dan got to his feet, brushing his knees.

"Um, I've got a handkerchief," said Casey, digging in his pocket.

"Of course you have. You're a Boy Scout."

Cleaned up a little, Casey wasn't sure what to do next. A little nervous he drew Dan in for a kiss and was relieved to find it returned with enthusiasm. He realised he had a question to ask. He broke the kiss with some reluctance, his hand retaining its hold around the back of Dan's neck.

"Danny. This New Year's Resolution of yours. Is it done?"

"Nope."

"It's not to, erm, do _that_ to every guy on the _Sports Night_ staff, is it?"

"Casey!" Dan punched his arm. Casey pretended to be hurt.

"Just checking all options." Casey allowed his thumb to drift mindlessly over Dan's earlobe, which was much warmer than it had any right to be. "Seriously, Danny, what is it?"

"I don't think you're supposed to tell."

"That's birthday wishes, you idiot. Come on, Danny. Look. See those clotheslines? That's me up there, hanging out to dry. I'm " he squeezed Dan's neck. "I'm fucking scared, OK?"

"Ah, Casey." And Dan was kissing him again, stroking his hair, soothing. It was an answer of a sort, but Casey wasn't well-versed in this non-verbal stuff and he needed more. Fortunately for him, he was with the man who knew him better than anyone else. Dan pulled back, his hand dropping away to his side, and looked straight into Casey's eyes.

"So my Resolution was simple. Get you to admit you want me as much as I want you."

"And that isn't done?"

"Nope."

"But the  you know  and the  with the " Casey felt his cheeks flush.

"And you say you scored a 780 verbal."

"Danny!"

"It's not done. Not officially. Body's one thing, brain's another. Your body's never been the problem, Casey. I've known what that was telling me forever."

Dan had known! Casey was going to have to process that, not least because it meant his skills of subterfuge sucked, but now was not the time. The words he needed to say were frozen in his mouth. Stupid really  there was no need to be scared, but somehow he still was. Casey looked at Dan, his face warm and open and waiting, and something melted inside him and allowed the words to flow.

"I want you," he said. "I wanted you. I will want you. Past, present and future, Danny. They're all yours."

"I knew that!" said Dan, a smile spreading across his face.

Casey rolled his eyes. Just let Danny wait till he got him home. God, it was freezing, he thought. And they say love keeps you warm. He stamped his feet and blew on his hands to make his point.

"Casey," said Dan, slinging an arm around Casey's shoulder and steering him towards the stairs. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."


End file.
